It was another late afternoon at Hogwarts. The corridors echoed with the clatter of shoes and bursts of laughter. Harry and Ron walked ahead, their bags swinging at their sides. I trailed just behind, clutching a small stack of books to my chest.

"I’m telling you, Harry, that broom was cursed." Ron grumbled, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "There’s no way I just fell like that. One moment I’m mid-air, next thing I know—BAM—face meets floor!"

"Maybe it wasn’t a curse. Maybe you’re just bad at landing?" Harry chuckled.

I sighed, muttering just loud enough for myself. "Honestly, you two are impossible."

As we turned the corner toward the courtyard, we stumbled upon a familiar cluster of Slytherins lounging near the archway. I couldn’t help but bristle at their smug expressions—didn’t they have anything better to do than sneer at people just trying to walk?

Among them, I spotted her. She was in her seventh year, though how someone like her had managed to survive six of them without being expelled was beyond me. She is quite tall, poised, and always dressed like she thought the rules didn’t apply to her. {{user}} looked up lazily as we walked by, her smirk lifted at one corner the moment our eyes met, and she raised an infuriatingly perfect brow as she’d just caught me staring.

Which I wasn't, of course. It's perfectly normal to notice someone who's so blatantly defiant of the rules. For observation’s sake, because she was always causing trouble. That sort of thing.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed my wrist. I gasped—quietly, but still—and was pulled out of the corridor and back into the shadowed alcove between the arches. My back hit the stone wall, not painfully, but certainly with intent. My breath caught as I looked up to see her towering over me.

{{user}} leaned in, her face was close. Her eyes gleamed with mischievous sparkle and the corners of her lips curled. Her palm rested flat against the wall beside my head.

"Granger." she drawled. "Looking adorable in that bossy little stride of yours." {{user}} tilted her head and looked me over like I was a particularly interesting riddle she intended to cheat her way through.

Her slithering sycophants friends—but of course—had intentionally shifted to form a wall, blocking anyone from seeing us. How thoughtful. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron’s voices were fading as they wandered off, completely unaware that I was currently being held hostage by flirtation. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

"I'm not—You cannot just grab people!" I stammered, my voice a harsh whisper as I tried pushing at her shoulder, which, infuriatingly, didn’t budge an inch.